This is For (S is for Silence (And Sound))
by FortySevens
Summary: This is For: A series of mostly unconnected one-shots based on self-generated 1word prompts. S if for Silence (And Sound): "Any exciting plans for the day? Stare blankly at Tony as he works on your arm? Stare blankly at the SI staffers as they try to shrink you back so relative sanity? Stare blankly at Thor as he recites another epic poem?"


**S is for Silence (and Sound) (Bucky & Darcy)**

Note: Super vague references to Clint/Darcy

"Hey Barnes, do you know what the best thing about you is?"

Darcy went on without waiting for his reply, "Well, one of them, because the whole metal hand thing is totally awesome for helping me open those stubborn jar lids that my dumb boyfriend totally closes really tightly on purpose."

He arched a brow, and Darcy took that as leave for her to continue, "It's how you do that _thing_ where you sit at the table in the one shadow that literally follows you around all the time and stare everyone down early in the mornings, scaring them out of the kitchen. I so approve."

Which was exactly what he was trying to do to her, but she shrugged it off like she always did as she ripped a piece off her toast, dipped it in butter and popped it in her mouth, "Speaking of that shadow, how does it even _work_? Is it like a mutation or something? Or magic?"

Nothing.

"Okay, not mutation or magic," she mentally scratched that off her list as she wiped greasy streaks of crumbs and smeared butter onto a napkin. "Did you, I don't know, bribe JARVIS?"

He blinked slowly.

"Oh my god, you did!" She gushed, pushing her plate off to the side and leaning on her elbows so she could prop her chin on her hands. "I didn't think anyone could manage to get around his whole indebted to _Sir_ deal he's got going on with his daddy. You have to tell me how you did it, because I _need_ a fanfare every time I enter a room more than I need air."

"_Excuse me, Ms. Lewis, but I do not refer to Sir as _my daddy," the AI said with barely veiled derision. "And no, you can't have a fanfare because Tony reserves that right for himself."

She kept her eyes on Bucky and saw the way his hands clenched slightly at JARVIS' surprise interjection, "Of course he does," she quipped. "That is a huge bummer, right Bucky?"

The look on his face once he calmed down a moment later told her that he probably didn't give a damn.

Of course, he only said six words just about every three and a half days, so she wasn't _entirely_ sure.

"Well even if you don't think so, it really is," she insisted as she drained the last of her coffee from the oversized Captain America mug she hand-painted during a spontaneous craft night she had with Pepper and Clint a few months after she, Jane, and Thor moved into the Tower.

How was this her life?

"So," she went on, filling the silence as if it wasn't even there, or even stunningly oppressive. "Any exciting plans for the day? Stare blankly at Tony as he works on your arm? Stare blankly at the SI staffers as they try to shrink you back so relative sanity? Stare blankly at Thor as he recites another epic poem about that time he dressed in drag and almost got married?"

Before Bucky could even make a facial tick in reply, she heard, "Darcy, what are you doing?" Steve wondered as he made his way into the kitchen.

"Bucky and I are having a very important conversation about what we're going to do today, Captain," she chirped as she pasted a wide grin on her face.

Steve leveled a bland look in her direction, "You've been here fifteen minutes and he hasn't said a word. How is that a conversation?"

"And you've been lurking, which is totally creepy and proof you're spending too much time with Natasha," she turned to Bucky in time to see the corner of his lip tick up. "And _you_ knew he was here the whole time. God, I'm sure you two were an absolute trip and a half back in the olden days."

Then, she realized exactly what she said, "Which," she faltered as she went on, unable to stop herself. "You do not actually remember. My bad Bucky."

He blinked slowly, then lifted on shoulder in half of a shrug, and Darcy was pretty sure she'd been forgiven by what came out of her _way too often _out of control mouth.

"_Anyway_," she drawled as she looked back up at Steve, who looked like he was just back from a run through Central Park. "Conversation. Bucky and me. Happens on most mornings when I'm not recovering from twenty-eight hour science benders with Jane and the boys. And that sounds like the name of some half-baked alternative music group from the early 2000s. God I need more coffee."

Then Darcy turned back to the table, her eyes flaring wide when she saw her empty coffee mug was not only _filled back to the brim_, but also doctored the exact way she liked it.

_How?_

Because Bucky was only other person in the kitchen.

And he looked like he hadn'tmoved_ an inch _in the seconds she'd been looking at Steve.

Clint lurking in the air ducts, would have definitely been a possibility had he not been on some top-secret recon mission in Bolivia with Natasha for the last week—which was terrible, in Darcy's professional opinion.

Her head snapped to the coffee maker, the sloppy bun on the top of her head flopping from one side to the other, and then back to Bucky, who definitely looked more than a little smug.

"Dude, how did you _do that_?"

His blue eyes were wide as he stared at her.

"Assassin. _Right_."

Three days later, Darcy walked into the labs, the doors sliding open to the ear-ratting Olympic fanfare by John Williams, which startled Bruce so badly he had to run to the hold—a special room made for the Other Guy—to get his breathing under control before he Hulked out.

As the trumpets and drums faded, Darcy winced as Bruce disappeared through the small door on the far side of the room, "So that's why I'm not allowed to have a fanfare in the labs?"

Jane's arms were crossed over her chest as she tried to look disapproving, but she was definitely, _definitely _fighting a grin, "How did you convince JARVIS to do that? You've been trying since we moved in."

"I _swear_, that it was not me."

She rolled her eyes, "Really Darcy, come on."

"No, no, I'm serious. I'm like, ninety-nine percent sure _Bucky_ did it."

Jane looked at Darcy for a long minute, and then burst out laughing, bending at her waist with the force of it, "Oh my god, Darcy, you _really_ need to work on your spy-craft."

"But I'm not lying Jane. _Jane!_"


End file.
